


Road to Recovery

by kiscico



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Gen, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Steve Rogers Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark's BARF machine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 16:12:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18854521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiscico/pseuds/kiscico
Summary: Bucky recovers post-Civil War with the help of a Wakandan king, a genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist, and a machine named BARF.Or, the one where Tony's BARF machine isn't ignored, Bucky remembers the good and the bad, and Steve perfects his impression of a bull in a china shop.Prequel to my other post-CACW fic:Roadtrip 2.0.





	Road to Recovery

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings** for descriptions of canon torture (Bucky at Azzano).
> 
> So, I have no idea how Tony's BARF machine is supposed to work-- I'm not sure Marvel knows either-- so I made it up. The general premise is that the brain picks a scene it needs to work through and then plays it out. My headcanon is that Tony practiced thinking about his unfinished business with his parents before doing his presentation at MIT. 
> 
> To me, it's so clear that the writers of CA:CW left the door open for Tony to help Bucky and then Marvel Studios just... _didn't_.
> 
> This is set before my other post-CA:CW fic [Roadtrip 2.0](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7248361) and totally disregards Infinity Wars and Endgame because I can.

_Did you know? That he killed my parents?_ Tony’s expression is somewhere between rage and a grief so deep Steve _knows_ it, just like he knows that nothing will keep him from Bucky this time. Even as his heart breaks, he can’t fail Bucky, not like this, not again.

Steve tries to keep those thoughts at bay. Some days it works. Those are the good days. After… after all of _that_ , they end up in Wakanda. T’Challa’s transformation from vengeance to understanding to friendship is fiercely humbling. Most days Steve can take his friendship as a blessing. He can thank God that he’s had the opportunity to meet such a kind, strong man. Other days, T’Challa’s strength of character shames him into staying in bed all day.

And then there’s Sam. Sam, who has as much, maybe more, strength than T’Challa. Sam, who stayed by Steve’s side through hell and high water when they barely knew each other. Sam, who helped him track down Bucky, even when Steve couldn’t. Sam, who pushed Steve gently away from the search when he realized Steve’s _need_ to find Bucky was perilously close to obsession. Sam, who drove three hundred miles in a VW with a man he trusted as far as he could throw him. And what with the metal arm, Bucky was _heavy_. 

Sam, who was the voice of reason. At first Steve was mistaken and thought that reason had to be calm and mellow, with a git’r’done attitude. In reality though, sometimes the voice of reason is a very human mixture of exasperated, freaked out and angry. Sometimes the reasonable reaction to a reactivated Soviet assassin is, “C’mon, man! Really?!”

And then there’s Bucky. There are few people in the world that can out-stubborn Steve Rogers when he sets his mind to something. One of them is Tony Stark. _Don’t think about that._ The other is James Buchanan Barnes. So when Bucky decided he needed to to go back into cryofreeze until the Soviet programming could be removed, Steve’s objections fell on deaf ears.

. 

T’Challa pulled through. His team of scientists took the pieces of Bucky’s arm that Steve had salvaged and reverse engineered it at a pace that Tony Stark would have been hard pressed to match. From the set of T’Challa’s shoulders when he admitted that the arm was made of vibranium, Steve had to hold his tongue before asking questions that he knew would come out as accusations. _Did you know?!_ Instead, he said thank you, and can we wake Bucky? T’Challa sadly admitted that Bucky had extracted his word that he would not authorize deactivating the cryofreeze unless it was to remove Bucky’s mental triggers. 

It took Sam three hours to convince Steve that breaking into the cryofreeze lab and waking Bucky was not a good idea. That it clearly wasn’t what Bucky wanted. Sam’s reasonable words pulled Steve’s shame to the surface again. He was being selfish. He needed to work on helping Bucky. He called up Natasha. She suggested talking to Tony. Something about a new machine he invented. Steve said thanks, and hung up before she could ask when they were coming back. He couldn’t bring himself to call Tony.

Steve never does figure out whether it was Sam or T’Challa or Natasha that called Tony. Whoever it was, it results in Tony showing up on a Thursday with a machine packed in a crate labeled _BARF_.

. 

“I know, I need a better acronym,” Tony says, as if he and Steve were mid-conversation. Tony has always been pretty good at that. Part of Steve thinks that they should be talking about… _everything_ , really. There’s part of Steve that desperately wants to have Tony as a friend again, and it insists that this isn’t cowardice, it’s just _going with the flow_.

“What does it stand for?” Steve asks. It’s easier than talking about other things, up to and including what Tony is even doing here.

“Binarily Augmented Retro Framing,” Tony recites. “It’s meant to help the brain process traumatic events.”

“Oh,” Steve’s brain catches up with his mouth too late, “you’re here to help Bucky.”

Tony flinches at the name. Steve curses himself seven kinds of idiot as soon the words escape his mouth. He lasted, glancing at his watch, three and a half minutes before upsetting Tony, and destroying the barely-there filament of truce hanging between them.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” he sighs, “that was obviously my, successful I think, impression of a bull in a china shop.”

Tony snorts a laugh, but then he tucks his expensive-looking sunglasses into his expensive-looking jacket and turns to face Steve full on. Tony’s shoulders are set, his chin tilted up in a way that means he’s about to systematically push each and every one of Steve’s buttons. 

“I’m here for you.” That’s… that’s not exactly what Steve was expecting. “Because while you are officially the worst friend I’ve ever had, and since I’ve had a friend who had me kidnapped, tortured, and then tried to kill me, that’s seriously impressive. Anyway, even though you are epic-levels of not cool right now, I refuse to be unfriended. Only I get to do that. So...”

“So?” Steve prompts after a few beats of silence where Tony just scowls at him. 

“So, as you are still my friend, despite all the aforementioned character flaws, and I help my friends, I’m here. For you. Under no condition is anyone allowed to operate under the assumption that I am here to benefit my parents’ murderer.”

“Right,” Steve still doesn’t know what to do with that. “Thank you?”

“Correct response,” Tony says, and then turns heel, taps the crate a couple of times and walks out of the room. The crate flies after him. Steve really shouldn’t be surprised.

. 

When Steve finishes sorting through his thoughts and carefully cataloging the things he really can’t say to Tony yet, he joins him and the others in the cryofreeze lab. Without speaking to the other humans in the room, Tony sets about unpacking the BARF machine. Sam and T’Challa are watching him work; Steve can empathize. When Tony shuts up and just _works_ , it really is impressive. He gives quick-fire orders to his AI as he assembles what looks like the framework of a room.

“Diagnostics complete, boss.”

“Okay, FRIDAY, let’s see what we’re working with.” Tony turns without preamble, “we’re ready for Barnes.”

T’Challa walks over and inputs a code into a panel on the wall. Steve’s heart aches when he sees Bucky, frozen, _captured_ , in the cryo unit, even though it was Bucky’s decision to be there. As the chamber starts to defrost, Steve glances at Sam who is leaning calmly against one of the hospital beds, and then looks to Tony, who is resolutely not looking at anyone. 

Steve’s there waiting when the cryo unit’s door opens to reveal a faintly dazed-looking Bucky.

“Buck?”

“Steve.” Bucky stumbles slightly as he exits the unit. He’s leaning too far to his right; the missing arm is playing hell with his balance. “What’s…”

Bucky starts to ask something, but catches sight of Tony. His eyes dart quickly to Steve. Steve tries to give him a reassuring smile as he catches his shoulder in a tight squeeze. It’s not reassuring enough to prevent Bucky’s eyes from tracking the movements of T’Challa, Sam, Steve, and Tony, like he’s waiting for one of them to strike. His eyes trace the windows, and the exits, and Steve thinks he even glances at the air vents. 

“Okay, onto the platform, put these on.” Tony’s voice is flat. The lack of nicknames or showboating makes Steve’s stomach turn a little. Bucky manages the glasses fine, but fumbles the rest of the headset. Before Steve can reach out, Tony tilts them into place. “So, I have no clue what this is going to do to a Hydra assassin with Soviet programming rattling around in his head.”

“Former,” Bucky says quietly. He stands where Tony points.

“What was that?”

“Former,” Bucky repeats, louder this time. “Former assassin. I don’t do that anymore.”

“Well, if that were true, we wouldn’t be here,” Tony snaps. He steps off the platform and activates the machine. “This machine is going to essentially create hallucinations. Try and breathe through it.” 

“Tony-” Steve starts.

“You asked for my help,” Tony glares at the room in general. “This is what I’ve got. I know how it reacts to someone with what could reasonably be considered moderate to severe PTSD. I have to admit I didn’t test it on any brainwashed killers, sorry, I was fresh out.” 

“It’s okay, Steve,” Bucky’s voice is steady, even as the machine starts humming. His breathing is a world calmer than Steve’s. Everyone in room seems to be on edge. Even Sam, steady, reassuring Sam, tenses next to Steve. The BARF room starts filling with images in quick succession. First, what looks like the helicarrier, then the airport, which blurs into Siberia, Austria, New York, back to DC, and then… 

When the images solidify, Steve’s staring at a scene he never wanted to witness again. 

It’s Zola’s lab at Azzano. The Bucky strapped to the table isn’t one that anyone in the room aside from him has ever seen. In a moment of painful realization he thinks that he might actually be the only living soul that knows that Bucky. The Bucky that’s standing in the room is starting to tremble, breaths coming faster. 

The Bucky strapped to the metal table is reciting his serial number, name, rank. His breath is misting in the cold air, his fists are flexing in an abstract pattern, and his eyes are squeezed shut. He keeps reciting. _325575, Barnes, Sergeant, 325575, Barnes, Sergeant, 325575, Barnes, Sergeant…_

“Christ,” Tony whispers. Steve hadn’t noticed that he was standing next to him. Steve thinks that that’s the appropriate response though.

The Bucky that’s standing in the room has reached a state of fine vibration, as the scene playing out in front of them gets worse. Zola enters the room. Steve wants to bash in his piggy, smiling face. The fact that Zola survived, that he _thrived_ , still makes Steve sick.

“Sergeant Barnes,” he greets. Bucky’s recitation stutters for a second, but he picks it back up quickly. “Still being stubborn today, yes? Well, that’s alright. Today is one of those days where I don’t need you to speak. Today is just for a chemical treatment.”

Steve flinches at the same time that both Buckys do. Zola rummages about at a metal table and then comes back with a series of syringes. He drops them on Bucky’s stomach as if he were just another table. When Zola inserts the needle into Bucky’s arm, he starts to wheeze, high-pitched breaths escaping from between clenched teeth. It takes Steve a few seconds to realize that he’s trying not to shout. 

“Painful, yes?” Zola says. He doesn’t seem to expect an answer. “I have to commend you, Sergeant Barnes, you are the only American to keep your mouth shut so well.”

The second chemical doesn’t seem to be as painful. Bucky resumes his recitation. His voice is softer, more hoarse. By the third injection, Bucky is straining against the bonds, whole body rigid, jaws clenched shut again. 

When Zola injects the final chemical, Bucky goes into convulsions. Steve can feel the metal exam table under his hand crumple. The sound startles the real Bucky. Suddenly, he’s scrambling back, scratching at the headset and glasses. Then he’s vaulting, one-armed, over the side of the BARF crate. The machine is still humming but there’s another sound, a quiet whisper behind the crate.

“B-Barnes, Ser-ser-sergeant, th-three-two-f-f-f-five-five-”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Tony’s voice is thick with emotions that Steve doesn’t have the energy to decipher. 

“I need to,” Steve gestures vaguely. Everyone else in the room nods. Yes, someone needed to do _something_. If only Steve knew what that _something_ was.

. 

It takes nearly a month of SNAP sessions. _I’ve got it! It shall no longer be named BARF, it shall forevermore be known as SNAP: synthesized neural augmented processor!_ Steve knows it should have taken longer, but Bucky is too stubborn for slow. He also knows that Tony didn’t have to personally oversee each session. No one had to say anything after that first attempt, but somehow a decision is still made. Only Steve and Tony needed to be in the room, no reason to share Bucky’s past with everyone. After that first time, Tony doesn’t call Bucky an assassin, or Hydra, or any other number of things. 

Bucky pushes himself, demands more sessions each day. When Tony tries to point out that the human brain wasn’t made to handle that much trauma in that short period of time, Bucky reminds him that the human brain also wasn’t designed to be repeatedly shocked and systematically brainwashed for seventy years. Not even Tony has a comeback for that. 

In between digging through Zola’s experiments, both at Azzano and after, the Soviet Red Room, and Hydra’s indoctrination, Bucky also gets to remember better things like being a welterweight champ and going to the World Expo.

. 

“No way? Lola?” Tony laughs, “Oh, man, my old man loved that stupid car. Didn’t get the repulsor tech to work halfway decently until after his ridiculous Hollywood days.”

“Hollywood?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, he modeled himself as a Hollywood director. He made some truly awful movies.” Tony is actually smiling. It’s a rare sight these days, and Steve is incredibly pleased to see it again. “I think it was just his excuse to be around Aunt Peggy, to be honest.”

“Peggy?” Bucky speaks up from his seat on one of the hospital tables. Tony is working on calibrating the new arm. Which Steve certainly isn’t going to draw attention to. Apparently not talking about Siberia is working for everyone. 

“Yeah, Peggy Carter?” Tony slants a grin at Steve. That grin is never a good sign. “You know, the one with the fondue?”

“Dammit,” Steve sighs. “I hate everyone named Stark.”

“Oh, god,” Bucky laughs, sharp and loud, like he’s startled himself, “I remember that! You thought Howard was propositioning her while airdropping you over goddamned Austria. It was classic.”

Steve notices two things one right after the other. One, Bucky sounds like Brooklyn, and it’s one of the most beautiful sounds Steve has ever been blessed enough to hear. Two, Tony’s eyebrows draw together in a combination of just-bit-into-a-lemon-while-expecting-an-orange and realizing-you’re-not-actually-late-for-work.

“Airdrop…” Tony looks, well dumbfounded, actually. Steve decides it’s not a very good look for Tony. “As in, flying over enemy territory? My dad was flying?”

“Yeah,” Steve wonders why Tony is so confused. “Tony, didn’t you know that Howard was the best civilian pilot on the western front?” 

“No.” And that’s the end of that conversation. Steve shares a befuddled look with Bucky, but Tony doesn’t seem to notice. He closes Bucky’s arm back up, and then he’s gone.

“Steve?”

“Yeah, Buck?”

“What just happened?” Steve shrugs. He didn’t understand Howard, and he certainly doesn’t understand Tony.

“He rails against his dad because the public hailed him as a hero, but I think Howard Stark must have really downplayed how important he was during the war when talking to Tony in private. It’s like Tony is genuinely surprised when he finds out his dad’s hero rep was well-deserved.”

Steve and Bucky share another look, before turning back to Sam. He pulls up a chair, flips it around and sits down. 

“What? I got something on my face?” 

“Nah,” Bucky says, “it’s just people. You get people.”

“And you guys don’t?” Sam asks.

“Steve’s never got on well with people-”

“Hey!”

“-he’s like a bull in a china shop.” Bucky’s grin is wide and he sounds like home. Steve can’t even complain about the ribbing.

“And you?” Sam’s grin is just as wide and relaxed as Bucky’s.

“I used to be real good at people,” Bucky admits. “Nowadays, not so much.”

“And that’s okay?” Sam is looking, really looking at Bucky, like he never did at first.

“For now,” Bucky agrees.

. 

Later, after the last of the treatments, Bucky finds a box in his room. There isn’t a label, to or from, but it _is_ wrapped in the most garish red and gold wrapping paper he’s ever seen. There’s a part of Bucky that genuinely wonders if Stark had it custom made. 

Inside the box is a paper with care instructions for a shoulder-length glove of synthetic skin. 

Bucky never does decide if the gift of looking down at _his_ hands is as great as removing Soviet programming. Whether it is or not, it gives Bucky the last shove he needs to leave the security of Wakanda behind and start living again. 

Tony leaves before any of them can thank him, but Bucky swears to find a way anyhow. It’s still tenuous between him and Steve; Bucky wonders if he can’t do something about that.

**Author's Note:**

> The reference to Howard's Hollywood days is straight out of _Agent Carter_.
> 
> The adventure continues: [Roadtrip 2.0](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7248361)
> 
>  
> 
> Come say hi at kiscico.tumblr.com


End file.
